


you've got me starry eyed

by ecubed



Category: K-pop, NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, ChenJi, ChenJi's This and That, Confessions, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Humor, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentioned Lee Jeno, Mentioned NCT Dream Ensemble, Mentioned Na Jaemin, NCT 2019, NCT Dream Ensemble-centric, Romance, Soft NCT Dream, chenle jisung and renjun are my best boys, chensung - Freeform, doesnt sound like it but I promise it is, inspired by chenji's this and that episode titled: making the author feel old, other dreamies don't appear, paper star fic, rensung, rensung friendship, sorry babies, we love and appreciate renjun in this house
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 16:48:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21039500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecubed/pseuds/ecubed
Summary: “You make a lot of these stars, and fill a jar or something with them. Then you give it to the person you like,” Chenle explained.Jisung is afraid.Soafraid. But for Chenle, he'll learn to be brave.





	you've got me starry eyed

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I caved and wrote a paper star fic. I’m sure everyone and their mother are writing one, but I just couldn’t help it. I’m sorry! Except I’m not.
> 
> It’s short and not very original but is anyone going to complain about more chenji/chensung fic?? If you do, you're on my hit list
> 
> Please don't unsubscribe from me because of this fic :p

“Renjun, you’re old, right?”

Renjun pauses the movie he’s watching on his phone, and looks at Jisung, eyebrows raised. “You might want to rethink your word choice there.”

Jisung ignores him. “You’re old, so you know things,” he continues. 

Renjun sighs. “That’s not any better, but yeah, when compared to a baby fresh out of the womb like you, I guess I do know a lot of things.”

Jisung brightens at that. “Great,” he says. “Then you can help me.” He gently pulls something from the pocket of his beige hoodie, and drops it into Renjun’s lap. 

Renjun eyes the crumpled paper star in confusion. “What’s this?”

“Apparently people used to make them a lot in China,” Jisung explains. “Back in your day.”

Renjun’s expression is pained. He looks like he’s about to say something, but just takes a deep breath, before releasing it with a resigned shake of his head. He sighs again. He seems to do that a lot around Jisung. “I know what it is,” he says slowly, “but what am I supposed to do with it?”

Jisung stares at him. “I want you to teach me how to make them.” He’d thought that was obvious. 

Renjun picks up the star, and holds it up to his face, taking a closer look. “Can’t you just get the person who made this one to teach you?”

Jisung feels his face heat. “I can’t do that,” he says quickly.

“Why not?”

“I just can’t,” Jisung repeats fiercely. 

Renjun frowns.

“It’s important,” Jisung says quietly. Renjun is the only one who can help him with this, and Jisung doesn’t know what he’s going to do if he says no. He looks at Renjun with wide desperate eyes. “Please.”

Renjun’s expression softens. “Ok,” he says, patting Jisung’s knee. “Go and get me some paper.”

* * *

“How many of these are we going to make?” Renjun complains. They’ve been at it for two hours, and there’s a mound of multicoloured stars rising between them, but it’s still nowhere near as many as Jisung needs. 

“More,” is all he says. “A lot more.” 

“Do I even want to know what you need these for?”

“Probably not,” Jisung says distractedly, not looking up from his work. He needs full concentration, or his star will metamorphose into a lump, and there’s nothing romantic about a lump. Renjun’s stars are much better than his, but Jisung is slowly getting the hang of it as well, and he thinks there’s a certain charm to his misshapen stars.

They have heart.

“I just need enough to fill that jar over there,” he adds.

“A jar?” Renjun says slowly, thoughtfully. “Wait. Are you-”

It’s then that Jisung realises he’s made a mistake. His head jerks up and he finally looks at Renjun, panic rising in his chest. “Please don’t ask,” he blurts out.

When he sees the way Renjun is looking at him, he realises that Renjun doesn’t have to ask because he knows. Jisung slumps forward in resignation. His ears are burning and his heart thunders in his chest. 

“Just please don’t say anything,” Jisung begs. His voice sounds high and tight. “If I think about it too much, or at all, I don’t think I’ll be able to go through with it. I’m already having second thoughts.” 

“Ok,” Renjun says gently. “But it is Ch-”

Jisung cuts him off. “Could it be anyone else?”

“No,” Renjun says. “Not for you.”

Jisung’s cheeks flood with heat again. He hadn’t meant to be so obvious. “Can we not talk about this?” he whines. “You’ve got stars to make.”

“Brat.” Renjun flicks one of Jisung’s failed stars at him. “But just so you know, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“Please don’t give me hope,” Jisung says, picking the lumpy star from his hair. “Hope is dangerous.” 

“And yet you want him to know,” Renjun points out. “So you must have some hope...”

Jisung shrugs. “I’m trying not to. But either way, he deserves to know.”

Renjun looks at him for a long moment, before nodding. “Ok,” he says finally, turning his attention to the strips of paper littering the floor. “Let’s do this.”

* * *

The idea had formed in Jisung’s mind when they’d filmed their latest episode of This and That. 

Chenle had proudly shown off the star he’d made, and presented it to Jisung (and if he’s carried it around with him since then, nobody but him had to know.)

“You make a lot of these stars, and fill a jar or something with them. Then you give it to the person you like,” Chenle explained.

Jisung frowned. That seemed like a pretty risky thing to do. “But what if they just look at you, and say ‘sorry, but I don’t want it’?”

Chenle’s face had gone blank, as if he couldn’t wrap his head around such a scenario. Why would he? Chenle is beautiful, kind and warm, and no one could resist him. Jisung certainly couldn’t. 

“I don’t know,” Chenle had finally admitted. “I didn’t give any.” 

That had surprised Jisung. “Why not?” he’d asked, curiosity curling in his stomach, “Were you scared?” 

Chenle scoffs. “Don’t be stupid. I just didn’t like anyone like that,” he says with a grin. “Not back then anyway. I was too young.”

Jisung tries not to think too hard about Chenle’s words, and what they could mean. The implication hangs heavily between them and Jisung’s mouth feels dry. 

He’s scared.

Even knowing that Chenle has liked someone since he left China, and how small that pool of possible suspects is, he’s scared.

“I don’t think I could even do something like that. Even if I liked someone,” Jisung says quietly. “Or more like, _especially_ if I liked someone,” he corrects himself. “I would be too scared they’d reject it.” 

“But what if they didn’t?” Chenle demands. “If you don’t say anything, you’ll never know.”

“I guess I’d just wait and hope that they said something instead,” Jisung admits.

“But what if they’re terrified as well?” Chenle asks softly. “You’re not the only one who’s afraid, Jisung,” he adds wistfully. 

There’s something about the way Chenle is looking at him, that makes Jisung think _maybe_. Maybe he isn’t imagining things.

But he’s scared. _So_ scared. So he just laughs awkwardly. “It’s not like anyone is ever going to like me back anyway, so this is not even relevant. I can’t even imagine it.” 

“Then maybe you need to stretch your imagination,” Chenle snaps, and for some reason he looks a little angry. “Why wouldn’t they like you? What is so wrong with you that no one out of billions of people on this planet would ever like you?”

Jisung blanches, at the sudden flare of Chenle’s temper. 

Chenle isn’t done yet. “You’re cute. And nice. And funny. And a whole lot of other things that I can’t put into words. So tell me again, why no one could ever like you back?”

“I don’t know,” Jisung says, looking down at his hands. “I’m sorry. Don’t be mad.”

Chenle seems to deflate at that. “No, wait. _I’m_ sorry,” he says. He places a gentle hand on Jisung’s shoulder and squeezes. “I’m not mad, I promise. I just hate it when you talk like that. There’s definitely someone out there who loves you.” Chenle swallows hard, and Jisung almost forgets how to breathe, eyes following the movement of Chenle’s adam’s apple, bobbing in his throat. “Someone who’s _in love_ with you.”

Jisung looks up, meeting Chenle’s eyes. “Yeah?

“Yes,” Chenle says. “Definitely.”

There’s a moment, and Jisung thinks maybe, just maybe he can do it. But then he remembers the cameras, and the churning fear in his stomach, and he thinks maybe not. 

Or at least not now, and not today.

So he just smiles softly at Chenle, and reaches for the next box, their fingers brushing lightly, as he passes it to Chenle.

That part had been edited out. It was apparently ‘pointless’ and they needed to pay more attention to the activity, instead of getting sidetracked. 

Still, the feeling had stuck with Jisung - the notion that he should do something, _anything_, because if he wasn’t reading into things, Chenle was just as scared as he was, and Jisung supposes that sometimes when you care about someone, you need to do the scary thing, so that they don’t have to. 

And Jisung cares. He cares so much. He hasn’t stopped caring since he’d met Chenle 4 years ago, and it’s only getting stronger.

It takes a few days for the perfect opportunity to present itself. Chenle’s not staying in the dorms anymore, and even though he’s there more often than not, they’re always surrounded - Jaemin popping his head into the room he shares with Jisung, to make sure they’re not sprawled all over his bed, Renjun yelling at him to turn down the heater, and Jeno asking them both to play games with him. 

He loves his friends, but every time he manages to psych himself up to finally do it, one of them gets in the way. 

But tonight is different. Renjun is busy with his radio show, Jeno’s gone for dinner with his sister, and Jaemin has physiotherapy. 

Jisung is alone in the dorm, and he knows Chenle will be here soon. He’s supposed to drop off a package for Renjun - some snacks from China his parents had sent over - that Renjun had had delivered to Chenle’s place instead of the Dream dorm. Renjun claims that the rest of them have no understanding of the concept of privacy and that last time half of his snacks had been eaten before he’d even had a chance to look inside the package. 

Tonight, Jisung doesn’t care about Renjun’s snacks. Only about the boy who’ll be delivering them. 

This is why he’s gingerly carrying his star-filled jar through the dorm, setting it out on the table in the hallway where they usually pile any deliveries. 

There’s no way Chenle can miss it. 

Jisung’s stomach twists painfully, but he doesn’t have any time to reconsider his plan because suddenly there’s a loud thump by the door, followed by a curse, and then Chenle’s voice.

“Can someone open the door for me?”

Jisung freezes. He counts backward from ten, takes a deep breath and forces himself to open the door.

He can barely see Chenle from behind the huge box that he’s carrying. “This is the last time I’m bringing Renjun his snacks,” Chenle complains, unceremoniously dropping the box onto the floor. “Next time he can come and get them himself.” 

Now that Chenle’s no longer hidden behind the box, Jisung can see that his cheeks are flushed pink, his skin covered in a faint sheen of sweat from the exertion of hauling Renjun’s package through the building. His blonde hair is plastered to his forehead, dark roots begging for a touch up. He looks up at Jisung, eyes twinkling with mischief. “We are definitely eating some of them as payback. I know which ones are his favourites.”

He sounds a little breathless, and he’s so heart stoppingly beautiful, that Jisung’s brain seems to short circuit and he’s suddenly forgotten every word he knows. He just stares dumbly at Chenle.

Chenle frowns. 

After a second, Jisung’s brain kicks into gear. “Hey,” he says quickly, trying to cover up his momentary shutdown. 

Chenle cocks his head in confusion. “Hey?”

“Hi,” Jisung says. He’s starting to feel sick. He has no idea how to do this, doesn’t know why he’d ever thought that he could. 

Chenle’s frown deepens. “What’s wrong with you? You’re acting weird.”

It takes everything for Jisung not to turn around and run. He takes one breath and then another, then he takes a step away from the hallway table, to reveal the jar full of stars that he’d been shielding with his body.

Chenle freezes. “What is that?” he asks quietly, voice even.

“It’s-” Jisung squeezes his eyes closed. “It’s the thing you told me about.” Jisung pauses, his mouth suddenly dry. “That you give to the person that you like.”

“Is this a joke?”

Jisung’s head jerks up in surprise. “No, of course not,” he says. “But it’s ok if you don’t want it. I just-”

Chenle cuts him off before he has a chance to finish. “Shut up.”

Jisung’s eyes widen. “What?”

“I never said I didn’t want it.”

“You didn’t?”

“No,” Chenle says firmly. “I didn’t.”

Jisung isn’t quite sure what to do with that information. He hadn’t gotten quite this far when he’d imagined how tonight was going to play out, consumed as he was by the paralysing fear that had its claws hooked into him. 

“But I thought you were too scared to do things like this,” Chenle says thoughtfully.

“I am,” Jisung admits. “Slightly less now that you didn’t laugh in my face, but I still feel like I might throw up.”

“You look like it,” Chenle observes a small smile playing about his lips, and the tightness in Jisung’s chest loosens a little. This - the teasing - is familiar territory, and Jisung feels steadier and braver than he’s felt all evening.

“But I did it,” Jisung points out.

Chenle takes a step forward. “Yeah, you did,” he says fondly. Chenle’s smile grows wider, and Jisung’s stomach flutters violently, the warmth of Chenle’s smile directly proportional to the number of butterflies making their home in Jisung’s stomach. 

Jisung doesn’t step back Whatever this is, whatever new thing is blooming between them, he will not let it start with fear. “I knew that if I didn’t tell you know, I never would,” Jisung says quietly. “And like you said, some things are worth the fear.”

“Like me?”

“Yes,” Jisung says simply. 

Chenle stares at him stunned. “Ok,” he says slowly. 

He frowns, and Jisung’s heart sinks. “What is it?”

Chenle looks up at him. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t do this for you. I was -”

“Afraid,” Jisung finishes. “I know.”

Chenle laughs. “It’s easy to be brave when it’s rollercoasters, so much harder when it actually matters.” 

“It’s ok,” Jisung says gently. “You take the death trap rides and I’ll take the romantic confessions. Together we’ve got everything covered.” 

Chenle takes another step forward, 

Jisung forces himself to breathe. “So I’m assuming you accept my gift?”

Chenle shakes his head, eyes sparkling. “Not the gift, but the idiot who made it.”  
“Well, I kind of think Renjun’s spoken for, and besides, I’m not really into sharing.”

“I thought those stars looked too good to be made by your disaster hands,” Chenle says with a smirk.

Jisung pokes his waist hard enough that Chenle doubles over, but he can’t bring himself to feel bad about it because when Chenle looks up at him, he’s laughing.

Jisung gives an exaggerated sigh. “Nothing ever changes.”

Chenle rolls his eyes. “I like the way things are between us,” he says, reaching out for Jisung’s hand. He tugs him closer, and suddenly Jisung’s counting back from ten again, and trying not to combust, because Chenle’s hand is gripping at his waist, and for once he’s knows it really means something. 

“But,” Chenle says, drawing out the word. “I wouldn’t say that _nothing_ has changed.” He sounds amused and Jisung’s not sure why.

Jisung frowns, and he’s about to ask Chenle what he means by that, but then he catches Chenle’s eyes lingering on his lips and -

“Oh-” Jisung breathes.

Chenle’s hands move to Jisung’s shoulders, and he gently pulls him down, until Jisung’s forehead is pressing against his. “Is this ok?”

Jisung doesn’t say anything, just rests his hands on Chenle’s waist, digging his fingers into the thick fabric of his jumper.

It’s a little uncertain at first. Chenle’s lips barely brushing against his, Jisung a little frozen, because he still can’t quite believe that this is actually happening. But then it’s like a switch flips inside him - because _oh god, this is happening. Finally. After all these years, it’s actually happening -_

It’s sloppy and messy, but it’s Chenle so Jisung can’t bring himself to care. Jisung goes in for another kiss, his mouth sliding against Chenle’s. He tightens his grip on Chenle’s waist. Chenle’s hand moves to his neck, tangles into his hair, adjusting the angle of the kiss, and then things are better. So much better. 

Chenle nips hard at his lip, and Jisung gasps - pain or pleasure he’s not sure. When Chenle kisses over the tender spot, Jisung thinks it’s both, definitely both. 

All too soon, Chenle pulls away. His eyes are wide, pupils blown. “You-” he breathes.

“Need more practise?” Jisung suggests seriously. There’s a streak of saliva on Chenle’s chin.

“Well, yes,” Chenle admits, choking down a laugh. “But that wasn’t what I was going to say.”

“What then?”

“Just that you were so brave. Thank you.”

Jisung feels his cheeks flush. “Don’t worry about it. I definitely got the better end of the deal here.”

Chenle tilts his head in confusion. “I don’t get it.”

“Well,” Jisung says, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning. “Since I did the confessing, you get to be the one who tells our friends about this.”

Chenle stiffens in his arms. 

“I mean, Renjun pretty much knows already,” Jisung continues, his voice deliberately casual. “And I’m sure Jeno will be very happy for us, but Jaemin… Jaemin might need a gentler approach.”

Chenle’s eyes go wide. His gaze drifts down to Jisung’s lips, and for a second Jisung thinks that Chenle might kiss him again, but then he brings his fingers to Jisung’s bottom lip, pressing them firmly against the spot that he’d bitten at earlier. It doesn’t hurt exactly, but it’s enough to make Jisung hiss. 

Chenle stares at the bruised spot in horror. “Oh my God,” he says quietly. “I’ve corrupted his baby. Jaemin’s going to murder me.”

Jisung just laughs, and leads a stunned Chenle to his bedroom, because if Jaemin was going to kill Chenle, he’d like to get a little more kissing in first.

(When Jaemin gets home that night to find Jisung and Chenle tangled together in his bed, messy hair and swollen lips, he just stares at them, eye twitching before telling them that he’s glad that they’ve finally sorted out their bullshit, but if he ever finds them in his bed again, they’d wish they’d never been born.)

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos appreciated as always :) 
> 
> Let me know what you think - good, bad, ehhhh?
> 
> And yes, I'm still writing the other fic. Not to worry!


End file.
